


From Down This Low

by TheBlindBandit



Series: Down To Bismuth [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Class Solidarity, First Meetings, Gen, Homeworld is Horrible, Minor Character Death, OC Pearl - Freeform, OC Ruby - Freeform, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 11:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17079470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlindBandit/pseuds/TheBlindBandit
Summary: The fateful first meeting of Bismuth and Rose Quartz, or: Bismuth can’t help but care far too much.





	From Down This Low

**Author's Note:**

> Back when I wrote the first draft of this, ages ago, it was pretty straightforward. Now it’s suddenly got a dozen implications per anything Rose says, a ton of bitter-sweetness, and is altogether just sad where I never originally intended it to be, but here we are and that’s just how it is in this post-ASPR world.

For centuries to come, Bismuth would remember with perfect clarity the well-respected Benitoite architect coming to inspect a relatively fresh arena building site on the promising new colony, her ruby guard escort and pearl by her side. It was hard to forget, too, all the warnings and instructions the overseers had made sure every single bismuth on-site was well aware of, had drummed into them under pain of a variety of terrible fates.

Then, almost as soon as the inspection started, the slip-up and the bit of earth that was supposed to have been flattened long ago, the shouts of one of the ruby guards and the bismuth next to her desperately trying, and failing, to regain control of a long girder.

And it would be downright impossible for her to forget the growing horror of the pearl staggering and slipping backwards into the mouth of one of the recently dug foundation pits, trying desperately to keep herself together, her form glitching and increasingly out of her control, hands clutching at the cracked gem on her throat like it could possibly help stop the webbing, flaking damage.

For a moment Bismuth felt something like hope - the Benitoite actually looked upset, even concerned. But that got snuffed out quickly enough, as soon as she spoke, in that drawl that made Bismuth shiver and feel like the refraction of her entire form was slightly off.

“Oh dear, no… I’ll never get a replacement in time for the hosting next cycle…”  

The callous disregard was, perhaps, the worst part of it all. It was just a pearl, yes, but Bismuth wanted to scream, it’s _your_ pearl. Surely you owe her _something_ , some small speck of feeling? She has to be more than an inconvenience to you, in the end.

Benitoite then proceeded to make a big fuss about destruction of property and compensation. The bismuth ended up harvested and the inattentive ruby guard shattered on the spot with the most sickening of sounds. The pearl…

Well, the pearl was left at the bottom of the pit, right where she’d fallen, twitching and glitching out and grasping at her throat as the crack in her gem deepened, and as it became clear that nobody cared about her save as an argument anymore.

Once the visitors finally left, and work was done for that rotation, Bismuth sneaked back on site and made her way down into the pit, and quietly held the pearl’s more and more immaterial hand. She did her best to try avoid looking too long at the tiny leftover ruby-red shards scattered about them, but they _glistened_ , and they played in front of her when she closed her eyes, and they deserved better.

She stayed with the pearl as long as she could, took her with herself when the pearl couldn’t hold on anymore and retreated into her crumbling gem, then hid her away in a nook in a half-built wall, next to a tidy pile of red shards - as many as she’d managed to find. The pearl never came back out.

 

( _Rose could have helped her_ , was a thought that would resonate, centuries later. But Rose had burst onto this particular stage just a little too late, and her healing tears even later.

It built and built and built into the realisation that she couldn’t sit around and wait for Rose to save everyone.)

-

Bismuth had no patience for meddling guards, not after the day she’d had. So when a rose quartz with the curliest cloud of bright pink hair Bismuth had ever seen trotted over to the edge of the construction site and very conspicuously tried to catch her eye, she kept her back turned.

“There are no delays. The arena will be ready for you all exactly as ordered,” she grumbled, barely managing to bite back _just in time_ _for you to wreck it and reduce good, hard, costly work to piles of rubble_. Typical. “Did you need something else?”

“I just wanted… to ask you a few things.”

Bismuth turned, despite herself. The rose quartz looked sheepish and awkward, toying with the pink diamond emblazoned on the front of her uniform, with an air of having just sprung out of the ground about her. Everything about the situation seemed to slot into a familiar place, and Bismuth sighed.

“Okay, listen, I know I’ve helped some of you out in the past, but I can’t go around secretly fixing every barracks wall before your regiment gets in trouble with the agate, not with the schedule they have us on here.” Bismuth rolled her eyes, “Pink Diamond needs her giant statues, _yesterday_! And besides, I remember telling your pals to keep it on the down low when I last gave you a hand. Who told you to come get me?”

The quartz hastily waved her concerns away. “Oh, no, you misunderstood. I really do just want to talk. Nobody sent me here.”

“Talk.”

“Yes! Talk. Maybe…” the quartz shot a vaguely nervous look around them, pointedly catching on the few stragglers still on-site, “in private.”

Bismuth narrowed her eyes. “You’re a strange one. But fine. I know a place we can go.”

It took her a few more minutes to finish up the chiseling on her current block, then she shapeshifted her hands back, dusted them off, and motioned for the quartz to follow.

She took them to a small stretch of beach at a nearby lake that was due to be drained soon - probably as soon as the terraforming unit could spare a lapis for an hour or two. But for now, it was a pleasantly quiet place to sit and think - or brood, which she’d been doing quite a bit of lately.

Bismuth sat down on a beached log, and the quartz followed suit. She was almost comically entranced with the play of sunlight on the lake’s surface, it seemed a shame to interrupt. But Bismuth doubted either of them could afford to hang around indefinitely.

“So,” she prompted, toying with a bit of driftwood she found at her feet. “Can’t say I’ve really talked to a rose quartz before. Don’t you lot usually get nicer assignments? We just get amethysts who’ve gotten on their commander’s bad side keeping us in line here, officially.”

The quartz ignored her words completely, choosing instead to lean over. “What’s that you’re drawing?”

“Hm? Oh,” Bismuth noticed she’d started doodling in the dirt. “A habit. Nothing much. Sometimes when I come here I just like to… get some ideas out, visualise. That sort of thing. Does no harm, and gets washed away eventually.”

The quartz was staring at her so wide-eyed and so fascinated, Bismuth couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Okay, look, you saw the scaffolding back there, right? For the pillars?” A nod. “Well, I was just thinking, and honestly when I draw it out it really seems to hold up - instead of the stuff Benitoite has us doing with them, we should do something like this.”

She’d already sketched out the supports, and added some detail to indicate where she’d have the load distributed and the arches go, just to make it clearer for the uninitiated - or, well, her entire audience.

The look the rose quartz gave her turned oddly pointed. “So you don’t think the pillars should be handled the way they are? Surely… surely Her Diamond’s Architect Benitoite is right?”

Bismuth huffed. “No, of course not. They’ll be gone in a couple thousand rotations, worn down to tiny floating bits. Besides, they’re ugly. Now _this_ ,” she pointed out the swirling lines in her hasty mud sketch, “this would be much better, much more durable, and it would look spectacular. And even Pink Diamond might be pleased with something, _finally_ , instead of having us do everything over and over again. Benitoite is as clueless as a chunk of shale.” Then she thought back to the architect’s haughty drawl, and her pearl, and the nook in the wall, and she found her mood rapidly darkening. “But hey, like anyone cares what I think. Might as well be the dirt under their feet. And that’s exactly where I’ll end up anyway.”

The quartz looked sadly at where Bismuth had thrown down her stick and smudged away most of the drawing in one frustrated swipe of her foot.

“You don’t seem to have much love for your superiors, or… Pink Diamond,” she began, slightly hesitantly.

“Love?” Bismuth snorted. “ _Love your Diamond_ is something meant for other Gems. All I’m supposed to do is get my work done as quickly as possible and get out of the way even quicker, so it can be properly enjoyed by those it’s actually meant for.” She turned to the quartz. “Listen, er-”

“Rose,” she happily supplied. No facet or cut or any sort of designation. Bismuth raised an eyebrow, but decided to shrug and roll with it.

“Right. Rose. You look like a fresh face, so here’s a friendly hint: the arenas are for you to wreck, but best keep out of the fancy places, yeah? They don’t want you there any more then they want me. If some upper crust tries to make you believe that she _does_ , stay away from her. It’s not worth getting entangled in any of that, and it can get real dangerous for you real fast.”

Rose frowned, but nodded. Bismuth wasn’t sure she was coming across properly, but she’d done her best with the warning. She seemed to have gotten her to think, at least - Rose certainly looked like she was mulling over something serious.

“I actually… I wanted to ask you something,” she spoke up after a stretch of slightly strained silence.

“Yeah? Your big secret that we needed to talk in private for?” Bismuth had no idea what it could possibly be, but she also couldn’t see any harm in it. And hey, if she could help a newbie quartz with something that was bothering her, why would she not?

Rose didn’t respond immediately, but spent a while looking out at the lake again. A breeze started up, and made her rich, pink curls dance around her shoulders - she was certainly a sight to behold, as impressive as quartzes generally went. Then she turned back to look Bismuth in the eye, gaze heavy with something unrecognisable. “What would _you_ want to build?”

“What?” Bismuth laughed, far too loud. “Listen, princess, I just hammer away, I don’t make the calls-”

“But if you could!” Rose sounded breathless, and had drawn closer, wide-eyed and expectant and oddly excited, then took one of Bismuth’s hands between her own. “Imagine if there was a place- if you could get the chance to figure it out for yourself. If you could pick anything at all to build, what would it be?”

_Anything at all._

It felt like a thousand ideas and wild thoughts were flitting through Bismuth’s mind, yet not a single one wanted to stay and become solid. But rubies and pearls featured prominently, and supports and safety nets and sanctuaries and things she couldn’t even begin to put into words, and she _knew_ yesterday was still messing her up but it was just so hard to put any of it out of her mind for long-

Bismuth pulled away and forced out another nervous laugh. “What do you want with me, you weird hunk of quartz? What’s gotten into you?”

Rose became far more serious - solemn, even, and her dark eyes seemed to bore into Bismuth’s very core. “I saw you yesterday. With the pearl.”

Bismuth tried to hide her flinch behind a grin she knew had to be terribly unconvincing, and found herself scrambling to come up with a believable excuse. “Well, you know how it is… no way am I ever getting one for myself, so why not make use of a chance to play a little pretend…”

Rose shook her head, the endless curls following the movement almost entrancingly. “You don’t have to put up that front with me.”

“Front? Hah, what? Come on-”

“I saw you,” Rose repeated simply, “and I saw that you cared.”

Bismuth didn’t have an answer to that, so Rose continued.

“You were so gentle. You sat there and let her cling to your hand right until the end, when there was nothing but risk in it for you. Not many Gems I know would do something like that.”

Her companion didn’t seem quite so innocuous anymore, and that air of newness and innocence and curiosity seemed to have an altogether different feel to it now, and an odd undercurrent. “You’re right,” Bismuth admitted, with an anger that somehow felt very old. “That’s how they have such a tight hold on all of us. We _help_ them keep us down and use us, because we do it to each other.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “ _They_? Sounds like dangerous talk.”

Bismuth shrugged. “Maybe it is. Maybe it should be, because we _could_ be dangerous. Maybe I’m tired of so many Gems like me being… underestimated. Or worse.”

Bismuths were easy enough to make, she knew. They were built to be sturdy and durable, capable of withstanding heavy loads and gruelling work and punishing conditions of colonies-to-be. The investment just made sense, but once they wore down or fell victim to some inevitable workplace accident, that was that. It was a loss, yes, but an entirely bearable and replaceable one, and what were a few bismuths compared to a glorious newly erected spire, or a magnificent temple to honour the Diamonds? What was a handful of rubies if the fight was won, in the end, or a string of pearls gone out of style?

The way Rose was looking at her, though. The things she was asking. That was new. “Who are you?” Bismuth finally asked.

Rose lowered her voice conspiratorially, even though a quick glance around confirmed they were still alone. “I’m someone who’s had some dangerous thoughts, too. And I’m looking for Gems who want to help.”

_Want._

“Well,” Bismuth said, feeling the beginnings of something oddly like promise, or that bit of hope she’d felt - or feared - snuffed out yesterday, “what did you have in mind?”

The smile on Rose’s face would have been terrifying, had it been aimed at her. As it was, she felt almost compelled to match it.

“Sabotage.”


End file.
